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Poem by Thomas Gent
On a Delightful Drawing in my Album
By my friend, T. WOODWARD, ESQ., of a Group, consisting of a Donkey, a Boy, and a Dog.
Welcome, my pretty Neddy—welcome too Thy merry Rider with his apron blue; And thou, poor Dog, most patient thing of all, Begging for morsels that may never fall! Oh! 'tis a faithful group—and it might shame Painters of bold pretence, and greater name— To see how nature triumphs, and how rare Such matchless proofs of Nature's triumphs are— The smallest particle of sand may tell With what rich ore Pactolus' tide may swell: And Woodward! this ingenious, chaste design, Proclaims what treasures lie within the mine— Pupil of Cooper—Nature's favorite son— Whom, but to name, and to admire, is one!
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